


in vino tristitas

by Twilit



Category: Maleficent (2014)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Dark Comedy, F/F, Gen, drunk Maleficent, i am not in the business of happy endings, mentions of f/f only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 03:31:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1764185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twilit/pseuds/Twilit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night is dark and close. Aurora has told her tale and Maleficent has listened, among others. In quiet of the evening words of little consequence are exchanged, along with weightier sentiments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in vino tristitas

“...known as Sleeping Beauty.”

Aurora concluded her tale, folding her aged hands primly before the riot of colour before her. There was a pause as a dozen children from all over the lands took a collective breath in before launching a withering barrage of questions at the queen. Immediately, her hands came up in mock alarm at the din before her before she gracefully turned the gesture into a placating one.

“I know, I know, so many questions for young, curious minds. But I do believe that it is long past your bedtimes. There will be plenty of time tomorrow for questions,” said a knowing Aurora, nodding at the children’s caretakers. As the women crowded the pack of children, one piped up.

“Please, Your Majesty, just one! Please!”

Aurora smiled indulgently, brushed some grey hairs out of her face and said, “Oh very well. Choose carefully now!”

The young girl’s eyes grew huge and she looked between her friends, looking for support. Excited whispers filled the air, rising to a breezy susurrus, nearly overwhelming the girl. _Oh dear, perhaps I’ve put too much strain on h-_

“Did Maleficent really call you Beastie?”

While the girl’s friends screeched and yelled at her for the choice, there was a sound like choking somewhere in the rafters of the huge castle. Aurora coughed, loudly and primly to cover it, and to demonstrate her disapproval besides. Still, she gave a conspiratorial look to the group and leant down. The gathered children leant forward, looking up.

“She absolutely did.” The group gave a chittering laugh before the caretakers began to herd them out of the reception room. With that, Aurora reclined into the high back chair and folded her hands across her stomach. The flickering light of candles in their evening colours warmed and lit the room in small patches all around but did not shed enough light to ruin the spectacular view of the night sky. She looked up into the darkness of the high room and spied little orbs of green and gold.

“Well, what did you think, Fairy Godmother?”

A blink from on high, and then a shape unfolded itself from the shadows and spread wings that ate the light like a forest’s canopy. It detached itself from the rafters and dropped with a light, swooping arc into the room proper. Where the golden light caught her, Maleficent gleamed as pale as porcelain, wrapped in her earthen tones. One hand propped itself on a hip and the other held a goblet made of silver and studded with jewels.

“I think… that this drink is absolutely phenomenal. What did you call it? ...Docks? No, no. That other thing with boats… port! This port! It is divine.”

“I _meant_ the story. The one about you? I would have thought that would have held your attentions.”

“Oh yes, well told, if a touch on the… childish side in parts. And rather saccharine.” The fairy’s severe face scrunched up and for a moment it looked like she might gag. Then it passed, quick as anything and she took another sip from the goblet.

 _This coming from the woman downing ruby as if it were water._ “Maleficent… how much of that have you had to drink?”

“Two bottles thus far,” the woman answered without missing a beat. She sauntered over to Aurora and conjured up a nest of branches out of the stone, which bent and formed themselves into a wide chair. With something less than grace, Maleficent took a seat beside the queen. “And your editorial choices were questionable.”

“Why, whatever do you mean?” Aurora asked, already half-aware of what her godmother would bring up.

“Well to begin with, you skipped the vast majority of my teenage adventures, all the way up to that idiotic charge by the old king.”

“They were _rather_ violent and besides which, little of that had anything to do with our story, now did it?”

“No, but I told _you_ and if you are going to insist on these storytime sessions, I in turn insist that you tell the tale fully. And don’t think that I am entirely unsympathetic to reducing the violence. You do not see me crying about your silence on how I really killed Stephan.”

“Oh you are too gracious, Maleficent! Somehow I doubt their parents would enjoy finding that their children learned the meanings of “disembowl” and “impaled on wrought-iron spikes of his own making.”

“Quite. So you could at least spend some time on my other, more noble exploits.”

“You heard how long it took with just these excerpts and yes, I _know_ I cut much but I did not want the children falling asleep any!”

“Pssh. If they fell asleep, your performance was lacking,” said Maleficent airily, with a dismissive wave of her hand. Aurora wouldn’t have taken offense, even had she not noticed the playful eyes glitter over the rim of the goblet as it traveled to the fairy’s lips once more.

“Terribly sorry, Godmother. Perhaps next time I should ask Diaval to perform a sketch for each of the sections?”

“I doubt his dignity would allow for it these days. And that’s another thing! If you were so concerned about the content being acceptable for children, you missed a golden opportunity with those comedical… comidic… comical! moments when I first met the bird. Constantly getting his name wrong, first because he could barely speak, then because _what kind of name is Diaval_ and then just for laughs!”

“And then getting it willfully incorrect. Diablo. You were such a dramatic thing.”

“Were?” asked the grand fairy, her mouth spreading into her smile-of-too-many-teeth. Though she favoured more subdued colours these days, the port stained her lips a shade reminiscent of the blood-red of days gone by. “Still, good show on the christening. I almost didn’t regret it, hearing your description of Stephan on his knees.”

The queen frowned at the sadness in Maleficent’s tone. She knew that though forgiveness had been granted and her misdeeds long since made up for, her fairy godmother would take her regrets into all the long years of her life. Some people were born into the sunny light of optimism. And some were born into twilight, cherishing darker side of things to take greater joy in the bright. So rather than try to cheer her up, Aurora simply rested a sympathetic hand on Maleficent’s knee. Presently, the smooth ivory of the fairy’s hand joined with hers and gave a thankful squeeze.

Then Maleficent lifted the queen’s hand ever so daintily out of the way and kicked up her legs over the side of her boreal chair. Aurora’s eyebrows shot up in amusement at the coarse behaviour. Letting go of her hand, the fairy pointed a long, supple finger her aging godchild.

“And another thing! I know that we are all magical and whatnot, but in all honesty did you really need to have Diaval coming down with a blossom dripping with nectar and all that rubbish? I understand if you did not wish to corrupt their precious ears by telling them I shut you up by jamming my tit into your mou-”

“Fairy Godmother!” 

“I _said_ I understood. Stars above, I have no idea where you got this prudishness from. Anyway, you could have cut that section entirely.”

“You just do not want people hearing of your soft spot for defenseless children.”

“Quite right,” growled Maleficent. “I do not.”

“But that’s all part of this storytelling project! To reform your image! To ensure future generations see the real Maleficent.”

“I am not nearly old enough to be worrying about what ‘future generations’ think of me. Whereas you-” again with the pointing finger, albeit this time a touch more unsteadily, “are of the exact right age. And with no inheritors. Admit it, Aurora, you are doing this for your own peace of mind.”

“And if I am?” the old queen asked, her chin set at a defiant angle. 

Maleficent shrugged. “You need not worry about me, is all, child. I have taken care of myself long before you came to be, and shall continue doing so long after you have gone.”

“But still I will work towards the truth of it and will do it out of love for you.”

“Ha! Love! Another bit overdone in your little biography.”

“Oh do tell how you have come to that conclusion. You are the one who crafted the curse _entirely around_ the concept of True Love. _You_ are the one who kidnapped a prince to save me from it. And _you_ are the one that broke the curse with _your own love for me_. There is stoicism and then there is contrarianism.”

“Bah.” Maleficent knocked back the rest of the goblet. “I do not question the events of the past nor the workings of magic. Merely the over-prevalalncy, o-ver-preVELiance, o-ver-pre- _vay_ -lence of it surrounding princesses and princes. Young girls shouldn’t be exposed to that tripe.”

Maleficent worked her jaw, lips and tongue as if they were numb, and perhaps they were! It was enough to make Aurora want to put her head in her hands. Her Golden Jubilee and it was her Fairy Godmother getting drunk. What was her world coming to?

“But perhaps there is some hidden wisdom in the laws of magic, hey?” asked Maleficent. “Perhaps it was less that True Love was required and more that love would only truly be possible between women!”

Given the stony features that Maleficent favoured, it would be easy to assume that she lacked the normally animated features of fairies. Innuendo was writ plain on her features and the obscene gyrations that her waggling eyebrows were now acting out upon her face put the lie to _that_ misconception.

"Fairy Godmother!" yelped Aurora, blushing furiously. 

The fairy's laughter was rich, dark and full-throated, the sort of thing to turn heads... before it cracked into the coughing cackle of someone who has had too much.

"Honestly, Beastie, I am frankly surprised you did not wander once Philip kicked it. A fine prize like you? Had I not raised you virtually from birth, perhaps I might have been stirred myself!"

"That is _quite_ enough, Maleficent! I cannot believe I am hearing this from you. You were in love with a man once so kindly lay off the drunken, crass innuendo!"

The wide mouth plumped into a pout. "It is only crass because you are not inib... inebera... drunk as well."

The pout faded. "And I was with a man _once_. It was enough to turn me off the whole species."

Aurora was not sure if Maleficent was talking about the gender or the actual species, but in either case, she could not bring herself to disagree, given the fairy's particular experience. Still, sad that...

"...you do not want any children?"

Raven tresses whipped through the air as Maleficent turned suddenly bright and bitter eyes upon Aurora. Their stoniness crumbled at the genuine hope and honest curiosity in Aurora's fading eyes. Maleficent shifted, far less gracefully than she would have liked, to lean towards Aurora. A moment of guilt, then a slender arm hand came up to cup a wrinkled cheek while long lashes blinked away sudden wetness. 

"I have already had the only child I shall ever need. None could ever compare to her radiance."

Tears suddenly filled her godchild's eyes, which broke the fairy's dam. The sadness flowed freely out of the women, sobbing with one another until Maleficent could stand it no longer. She forced a laugh.

"Look at us, two old biddies crying over nothing. Time for bed, I think."

"For you at least, you incorrigible lush," chuckled Aurora. The queen gripped the arms of her chair and pushed herself to her feet with a grimace. That animal reflex of shutting one’s eyes while experiencing pain did her a favour then, because it meant that she was not party to the look of sorrow and panicking loss that sketched itself across her godmother’s face. With a quick hand it was writ and quicker still wiped away.

“Diaval! Come, and give the queen a hand back to her chambers!”

“Diaval! Come, and make sure your sodden mistress does not fly into a tree on her way back home!”

One of the tall glass doors to the balcony creaked open, revealing the wry and lined face of Maleficent’s favoured servant. 

“Now, I wonder which of those commands I am to follow, hmm?”

“Mine, naturally, as I am your mistress and am perfectly capable of getting home myself,” said Maleficent, rising smoothly into a stumble. Diaval and Aurora exchanged a look and Aurora’s eyes flicked to the rafters. The raven’s keen sight picked out the bottles placed up there and rolled his eyes. He approached and held out his arm for Maleficent.

“Mistress, I believe the good queen has other servants for that. I am sure she will ring for them momentarily.” He gave Aurora a meaningful glance as Maleficent reluctantly grasped at his bicep.

“Of course. And they will be here in a moment, but you do know what a fright you give them…”

“Yes, yes, I will be on my way. I swear, one of these days I will tire of your consipirings against me.”

As Maleficent allowed herself to be lead out of the room and onto the balcony, Aurora waved, while pulling on a bell rope. “Good night, godmother.”

“Good night, Beastie.”

* * *

Click went the balcony door behind them and the sorceress and her raven were alone in the night. The dark chill hit Maleficent like a bucket of ice water and Diaval could feel her straighten beside him, her grip laxening. She paused and turned back to the room. The silvery light of the moon and stars was enough for Diaval to make out the tiniest of movements, and so he saw her ears twitch and quirk.

A wave of her hand was enough to set magic in motion, the window back into the room losing opacity, until they could see in without hindrance. The raven was sure the opposite was not true. They watched as two servants came by to help Aurora, taking her gently by the elbows and helping her with the steps out of the room. Each evidently painful tread tightened Maleficent’s grasp on Diaval’s arm. He bore it stoically, and in full understanding. It was a sorrow to him as well, and showing it was equally difficult.

“Sixty-six years,” the grand fairy whispered. “And on the throne for fifty of them. And yet, here she is, trying to tell _my_ story.”

Diaval remained silent, uncharacteristically unsure of what he could say.

“In the twilight of her life, and I barely past the dawn of mine.” The crystalline glint of tears appeared in Maleficent’s eyes. _Ah, so that’s it_. “Is this to be my punishment then? The curse of outliving all I hold dear?”

She turned to him then, reaching up to his brow, where tufts of grey and white sprouted unmindful of the slick rest of his dark hair. He swallowed, hard, as an immaculate finger traced their feathery lines. He could not stand to look at her like this, distress and regret written plain on her face. Her hand fell away.

“I should never have meddled in human affairs, and stayed in the Moors for all time. I should never have raised that curse, met that child, tried to save her. All they have ever done is wound me.” 

Maleficent squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the tears from them with a suppressed sob. Teeth ground together in pain and frustration, an attempt to hold another down. A furious shake of her head in desperate deniable. But it was not to be. Maleficent, feared by all, wept in the silence of the night. 

Diaval shifted uncertainly, and brought up his other arm to hold her close. A moment, then Maleficent’s arms went around him as she cried into him. 

“She still calls me godmother. A great old queen and she calls me _her mother!_ There was a time I thought we could be sisters, but no! Time is a cruel thing and I shall be a mother parted from her child all too soon. And she will smile all the while, because that is her way.”

Another sob.

“Oh, ‘you do not want any children?’ she asks so innocently,” cried Maleficent. “Can you not see what but _one_ has done to me, beastly thing?”

Diaval looked at the broken fairy in his arms and wondered just that. “She only sees the best, the love that brought her back, the love that will remain once she is gone.”

A beat.

“But still, she will be gone.”

And then a silence of ages passed between them, their thoughts taking them to places melancholy, bittersweet. Above the stars shone and twinkled coldly, uncaring of the trials and tribulations of the world below them. In the distance, Diaval could see the faint flickers of the goings on of fairies and below glowed the fires and candles of men. Maleficent’s grasp loosened, then suddenly tightened into claws in his vest.

“How I hate mortals,” she whispered, venom dripping from the heated words.

“No,” he found himself saying. “You hate mortality.”

Her clawed hands released him. The faint gleam of salt-trails were all that remained of her tears and Maleficent’s eyes remained as bright as ever. Well, almost.

“Stop being cleverer than me.”

“Stop being drunker than I.”

“Insolent thing. Turn into a bird, would you,” murmured the fairy. “And let’s be off.”

Diaval took his raven form with a squawk and Maleficent watched him take flight. Above her, he bobbed once, twice, turning in place, a dark shape barely visible against the black of night and faintly-shining grey clouds. Then she spread her wings, fully three times the length of a man, and followed him into that dark, away from the castle, its halls and all the memories and futures within.


End file.
